Nothing Disappears
by eight percent
Summary: Post S17 musings. Barba/Benson.


A/N I'm still struggling with the finale. It's not just that the Tucker/Benson thing is so ridiculous (and has mangled both characters in the process) but what really niggles is that their relationship seems to have come at the expense of the Benson/Barba friendship. No Barba/Benson in the finale at all? Really? A little one-shot (?) to try and fix things...

Nothing Disappears

From his position at his desk, with the door to his office ajar, Rafael Barba could hear the now familiar - and increasingly annoying - murmurings that met each and every visitor, whether he was at work or at home. He didn't like having his life scrutinised so closely but he liked having a life more. As the security detail he'd reluctantly accepted went through the process of establishing identity and intentions, a sharp pain, just above one eye, made itself known, a sure sign of an approaching migraine. Reaching into a drawer he pulled out a bottle of aspirin; they might see off the headache but a migraine was, quite frankly, the least of his problems. Swallowing a couple of the white pills, washing it down with the last of his coffee, he left the bottle on his desk, almost immediately reaching for more when his visitor walked through the door. Of all his problems, from the months of escalating harassment that had culminated in a very real threat to his life to the pressure he was getting from the DA about an upcoming trial, Olivia Benson was by far the biggest.

A year ago he'd have said that they were friends, and perhaps closer than a Lieutenant and an ADA needed to be, but lately that hadn't been the case. Their friendship had been scarred, and a distance had grown between them, ever since the day he'd put her in front of a grand jury and teased out what he'd needed her to say, what she hadn't wanted to say, without having her betray her fellow officers in NYPD. Time had started to heal that wound but the recovery had been slow and then undermined completely as events and cases had continued to damage a friendship that had once seemed impregnable. Now they weren't really anything, other than always extremely professional. "Liv," he greeted, a little cautiously as her presence most likely meant that something else was about to raise his stress level.

"Hey," she replied, moving further into his office. He watched quietly as she took a seat in the chair on the other side of his desk, a faint smile on her lips when she finally spoke, "I wanted to see how you were doing. With... everything that happened, I never got a chance to ask you."

Having not anticipated this being a social call, the statement momentarily threw him. Slowly sitting back in his chair, he considered telling her the truth: that the death of Sergeant Dodds - who had carried a weapon, who had been trained to handle dangerous situations, who had been shot in the middle of the day with armed police officers a short distance away and unable to protect him - had brought his own mortality horrifyingly close to the fore. Not so long ago he went to sleep each night worrying about the Reynolds trial; now he went to sleep wondering if the next day would be his last. But the slight pause in her words seemed proof of what he'd already surmised: she'd taken Dodds' death to heart. Therefore it seemed best to avoid the subject altogether. "Apart from having strangers watch my every move twenty-four hours a day, I'm fine," he said instead.

Liv nodded, though he suspected it was more in understanding at the intrusion into his life than any belief that he actually was fine but she didn't push him on either of those things. Instead, she asked a question, softly and tinged with hurt, that he had been anticipating from the moment he'd confided in two of her detectives that the threats had been going on for longer than he'd previously admitted, "Why didn't you tell me about the threats when they started?"

"They started after the Reynolds indictment," he began slowly, rubbing his head, where the pain seemed to be taking up residence, with his fingers in an attempt to dislodge it before this conversation only compounded it. They'd never really talked about the indictment; she'd been angry at his actions but he'd needed to get a result - the DA had made very clear what the consequences of failure would be. He'd been disappointed with her actions, too; there'd been a clear victim, special or otherwise, the night Terrence Reynolds had been shot but she'd closed ranks along with the rest of NYPD. They were going to have to talk about it in depth at some point; not only was it a possibility that the threats he'd been receiving were linked to the death of Terrence Reynolds, the trial was looming on the horizon too. "We weren't exactly on good terms and the suggestion that it might be linked to that case or to someone in NYPD wouldn't have gone down very well with you," he continued, keeping his tone neutral even if his words were not.

"I was angry with you," she admitted quietly. "And I might have been defensive at that suggestion but I would have investigated every possibility. Did you really think I wouldn't?"

The question came loaded with the same emotion as the previous one, which surprised him; when he'd thought about this conversation he'd pictured her being more angry than hurt. He sighed softly, unsure if the hint of nausea in his stomach was because of the question she'd just asked or the migraine that was settling in. At the time he hadn't even considered telling her; he'd been, in retrospect, far too cavalier about the phone calls and the texts, brushing them off as one of the perks of being an ADA - in his line of work one party was always going to be angry with a jury's decision and the part he'd played. When the intimidation had taken a sharp turn, and he'd been threatened in person outside of the courthouse, his bravado had surprisingly held; it'd been a little wobbly, perhaps, but relatively intact. He had told Liv at that point but only about that particular incident and only because he'd believed it'd had something to do with the Munson case; he'd been concerned for both her safety and the rest of SVU. The second time he'd been threatened face to face, trapped inside an elevator and alone with a man whose bluff he had previously called, he'd finally accepted how serious the situation was. "They were just hang-ups, Liv. I wasn't too concerned at the time and when it did escalate I told Carisi and Rollins."

"But you didn't want to tell me."

"You haven't exactly been forthcoming with me either."

The two statements, both coloured more with hurt than anger, hung between them, a roadmap of what had gone wrong and where. Liv nodded slowly, before addressing his accusation, "I should have told you about Tucker the moment you informed me that there was going to be an investigation into him but… I didn't want to face the consequences."

"I know it doesn't always seem like it but everything I've done has been to protect you," he defended. When he'd informed OnePP about her relationship with Tucker he'd known that there'd be repercussions - and that she'd probably be pissed with him - but it had been in her best interests; she would have received more than a temporary reassignment if she'd continued investigating a crime whose main suspect at that time was the man she was sleeping with - and so would he for allowing it. He hadn't been prepared to watch her jeopardise her career for a man who'd once tried to take it away from her, along with two of her former partner's careers as well, and who'd held a grudge against most of her squad at some point over the years.

Recently though, his actions hadn't been quite so selfless. Ever since he'd found out about her and Tucker he'd tried to keep his distance, liaising with the other detectives in SVU and only making an appearance at the precinct if it was absolutely necessary. He could argue that it was to let her relationship with Tucker flourish; between her job and her son she didn't have much free time so taking himself out of that equation could only be to her - and Tucker's - benefit. But the truth was that he'd been protecting himself; he'd been woefully unprepared for the jealousy that had burned through his veins when he'd realised that she was seeing Tucker and bumping into them at the precinct, or hearing all about it from her, was the last thing he wanted.

"I get that. You still had to do your job, too," she said softly, a sad smile appearing on her lips. It was quiet for a moment, her gaze steadily meeting his, convincing him of her sincerity, before she asked, "We haven't talked enough this year, have we?"

"No," he agreed because she was right: that was part of the problem and they were both to blame in that respect. She'd been so angry with him after the Reynolds indictment that she'd kept her distance - and he'd let her, taking the cowards way out by pretending that it never happened. After the debacle with Tucker and the sex-trafficking ring he'd been the one to keep away, intent on reinstating the distance once more despite her attempts to talk. He couldn't tell her why he'd been so evasive though; even now, when they were finally having an open conversation, it seemed easier to let her continue to believe that he'd just been angry about her deceit rather than admit that he loved her.

"We've let things come between us. I don't want that to continue."

It was an opportunity to take back their friendship - and he could only surmise it meant that losing Mike Dodds had given her a new perspective too - but he hesitated. They could never go back to how things used to be; she was sleeping with Tucker and he was having a hard time accepting that. He could refuse her, tell her that it was an impossible ask but she'd probably want to know why. Explaining that would cause even more problems. And he didn't want to not be her friend: he'd missed her. His only option was to accept both her and her relationship with another man. "I don't either," he said with sincerity, the response garnering a small smile from Liv - something he hadn't managed to do on the few occasions their paths had crossed recently. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm okay. I'm working through some things, trying to look at the positives. I have Noah," she replied, her smile quickly stretching into a beam at the mention of her son. "I still want to help, to do my job. I have a good thing going with Tucker."

"I'm glad, Liv," he smiled and it wasn't an outright lie because he did want her to be happy, even if he wished that it didn't have to involve Tucker.

She studied him silently for a moment or two and he kept the smile in place, hoping that she believed him. When she spoke again he was surprised, and a little disappointed, by the subject, "He wants to take me to Paris."

"You're giving Noah too much allowance if he can afford air tickets," he joked, hoping to swiftly change the subject. Paris was the city of romance, it was the place for lovers; as much as he disliked Tucker he couldn't fault the man's taste but he certainly didn't want to hear all the details. Noah, on the other hand, was a different matter. She used to give him regular updates on her son and though he made out that he was just humouring Liv by listening, he'd come to enjoy hearing all about the boy; though he rarely saw Noah it was almost as if he was there with her, watching him grow from a sickly infant into an inquisitive toddler and the way Liv would smile, the light that would shine in her eyes, when she spoke about her son was always a spectacular sight.

Rewarding him with a grin, she sadly failed to take the detour he'd offered, "I can't go anyway."

"You're worried about your team," he quickly concluded. The movement of NYPD personnel wasn't something he was privy to, less so these days because of his attempts to keep a distance from Liv; when they had spoken they hadn't shared anything more than case related details with each other. He'd assumed that a replacement for Dodds had already been arranged before the Sergeant's untimely demise but, as SVU was still currently a detective short, that obviously hadn't been the case at all. With Chief Dodds, quite understandably, taking some personal time he could understand why Liv would be reluctant to go away on vacation at this time.

"And you."

He was touched that he was part of the reason she wasn't going abroad with Tucker, especially given how things had been between them lately, but he reminded himself that it was only as a friend. And as a friend, he supposed, he should encourage her to go. If anyone deserved a break it was her. "I have a security detail."

"And a talent for pissing people off. Who's going to protect your security detail from you?"

Shaking his head at her aside, it hit him then just how much he'd missed this; missed her. It also brought home how difficult just being her friend was going to be. She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with delight, and all he wanted to do was kiss her. If the death threats weren't successfully carried out then this just might kill him instead because the distance he'd put between them had done nothing to dampen his feelings for her. At this point he wasn't sure that anything would. "This could go on for months," he ventured, thinking not of her need for a vacation but his own personal turmoil.

There was a long moment of silence, her eyes - no longer shining with joy - meeting his as her smile faded. "I know," she said eventually and as if it didn't matter at all how long this continued.

They used to be on the same wavelength, easily able to follow each others train of thought but now, whether it was because they'd disagreed so much this past year or he was letting his feelings for her cloud his judgement, he wasn't sure how to take her response. He was sure though that he still wanted to kiss her. He'd been here before, had watched a woman he'd fallen in love with choose another man and the only solution had been to throw himself into his work and a series of ever fleeting relationships. He'd sworn never to let his guard down or allow his feelings to grow so deeply again. And then he'd met Liv. Letting her in, telling her things - about his past, about himself; things that he'd never consider sharing with anyone else - had always felt so easy, so right. He could deny it as much as he wanted to - and he had tried - but his feelings for Liv were too deep, and had hurt far too much, to have only just occurred. Or to try and diminish with work or time or affairs.

There was another option on the table, though and it was far more appealing than trying to rebuild their friendship or burying his feelings for her. He could fight for what he wanted; he could fight for Liv. She wasn't married to Tucker, they weren't living together and 'a good thing going' wasn't exactly a ringing endorsement of her relationship with the IAB Captain; good wasn't great or amazing or any of the other adjectives that made good sound only marginally better than okay. She deserved much more than that and he was the man to ensure that happened. He was smarter than Tucker, better looking, better dressed - the list was endless; the only thing Tucker had on him, aside from a couple of inches in height, was Liv's attention. He could change that. He would change it.

Leaning forward, his head suddenly clearing, he smiled at Liv. "I have a meeting with the DA this afternoon but how about we continue this another time? You, me, a bottle of wine and two, gun carrying, undercover police officers lurking very close by."

There was a pause before she answered, long enough for him to think that she would refuse, to worry that this was perhaps a step too far and too quickly, that he'd let his heart rule over his head, but when she spoke, her tone light and a smile re-emerging on her lips, it was beyond his expectations. "How about tonight? Come to mine," she half asked, half ordered. "That way you can leave your new friends outside."

He nodded his acquiescence, managing to keep the grin that was bursting inside of him toned down to just a smile. It was game on. And he was going to win Olivia Benson's heart if it was the last thing he ever did.


End file.
